


Until, Once More

by Mere_dyth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mere_dyth/pseuds/Mere_dyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the eternal cycle of protecting Albion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until, Once More

**Author's Note:**

> For many reasons I took all my fic down over a year ago. For many reasons I am putting this one back up.

Until Once More

It's not as lives reborn that they come again into our world. The chance to grow and live and connect is not their gift or curse. When the time comes, it is as they were that they step out again onto the soil of Albion, in worn leather place their tired feet onto the heart's rock and soft green sod.

Arthur strides from the mists, the boat he leaves behind rocking with the barest of shimmies against the lapping shoreline, tangled cloak fluttering, unfurling into the dawn breeze, hair catching the warming rays and throwing them back defiant. Always defiant.

Merlin breaks free of the rock and tree, gasping and hollow, eyes black and gold and haunted, alone and lonely. He stumbles, staggers, grasps at his chest where time has settled in long, dusty layers. Slowly the gold fades and the black recedes, and humanity peeks out from the shattered fragments of his imprisonment.

They meet on the riverbank, watch its tumbling waters rush or slow, meander westwards to where the grey sands and broken pewter waters sigh with the bells of all that has been lost. In a single glance they say all that needs to be said. Hello. Again. You.

Yes.

They turn as one, regal and tattered, brace their shoulders and walk forwards. Onwards. Towards whatever time of peril and trial the land faces. Arthur marching, determined. Merlin quiet and purposeful, and always just behind Arthur's right shoulder. They fight, as one, with sword and magic, no words needed, movement and thought shared between them like breath and spirit.

And when they are done, and the world, their world, their Albion, is safe again, they return to the riverbank and watch its tumbling waters rush or slow, meander westwards to where the grey sand and broken pewter waters sigh with the bells of all that has been lost. In a single kiss they say all that needs to be said. Goodbye. Again. You.

Yes.

Until ...


End file.
